Spoils of War
by Myrielle
Summary: When war breaks out between Shinra and Wutai, Sephiroth loses the one thing he has always treasured. But now that the victory's won, he intends to take back what is rightfully his. ::AU::
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing but the plot here. All FF VII characters belong to Square. None of this is for profit._

_Summary: When war breaks out between Shinra and Wutai, Sephiroth loses the one thing he has always treasured. But now that the victory's won, he intends to take back what is rightfully his. AU, SephTi_

_Genre: Romance/Drama_

_Author's Notes: Yes, I've been bitten by the Sephiroth/Tifa bug. Yes, I know that in spite of my trying to keep everyone as IC as possible, this is classic cheese romance. I apologise for inflicting this on unsuspecting readers. If you want to, leave now!_

_**Spoils of War**_

_I. Prologue_

General Sephiroth coolly stamped his seal into the warm wax and handed the message to his man who received it in a manner that was no less than reverential. Years of such hero-worship had rendered him immune to it and it was a rare occasion when he felt the urge to roll his eyes and poke ridicule at what would have made other men puff up with pride. Sephiroth didn't count idol worship as the mark of a great general; that could be counted in the number of victories he won and at what cost.

Speaking of cost… Brilliant green eyes shadowed as he looked at the window across the room. Outside, his men were gathering and burying the dead. Both Shinra's and Wutai's. Officially, it was for health reasons that his men were told to bury even the bodies of their enemies. Personally and philosophically, Sephiroth felt that it was only right that soldiers, all soldiers, be honoured for their sacrifices. This was a war; he never let things get personal or petty as far as he could help it.

Although, therein lay a paradox. The general smiled faintly but it was without humour. For those who had lost loved ones, it was as personal as anything could get. Three days ago, the vicious four year war between the Shinra Empire and Wutai had finally culminated in triumph for him. Emperor Godo had been brought to his knees with more than two thirds of his army wiped out and his once prosperous island impoverished.

Thankfully, Shinra's losses in those terms had not been that severe. Men had perished, but that was to be expected in the life of a soldier. President Shinra had griped and groaned about the cost of the war, a war that he had explicitly ordered Sephiroth to wage but he could more than afford to cover it. With the new Mako reactors up and running, Midgar and its citizens were thriving.

"This ought to make him happy," Sephiroth murmured with more than a hint of sarcasm, disregarding the presence of the two armed guards at his door. His men may have been soldiers in Shinra's army but they gave their allegiance and loyalty to him. Never once had Sephiroth ever left it to his men to brave a battlefield alone but always he was there with them, in the heart of the action, fighting alongside them. And they loved him for it.

Taking a good look at his new surroundings, Sephiroth ran his eyes over the furnishings, noticing the décor for the first time instead of simply analysing it in terms of strategic spacing, such as the entrances where desperate assassins might assail him from. He had men patrolling the roofs just in case; Wutai's elite warriors were ninjas and scaling walls and buildings were their speciality. It was not so much a case of Sephiroth fearing for his own life rather than his desire to do things thoroughly and prevent problems before they could happen. That same desire was one of the many reasons why he was the Empire's premier general and incidentally, it's youngest.

Godo's quarters were large and spacious, fit for an Emperor indeed. But the gold traceries marking the deep wooden columns were too gaudy for his taste; he preferred things simple and almost austere. The thick drapes had been released and pulled close to prevent anyone from looking in. Intricately carved chests, cupboards and shelves lined the wall, the latter was filled with books and from the titles Sephiroth could see that his opponent was extremely well-versed in many subjects, not just war. Godo had been a tough opponent but when it came down to it, he was better.

At the furthest end of the room lay a bed that could only be described as enormous. The headboard was carved with leviathans that were inlaid with a curious shining aquamarine substance that made them seem almost alive. Midnight blue silk sheets and coverlets of fine wool covered the mattress and Sephiroth, in spite of himself, was feeling the slightest tug of fatigue. The bed was starting to look rather welcoming, especially when he considered who ought to be arriving now at any minute.

The thought had no sooner formed when he heard the sounds of marching feet, what sounded like scuffling, an oath and a hissed chastisement about not swearing in the quarters of the General. To be fair to his men, they were being rather quiet and it wasn't their fault that his hearing exceeded that of a normal humans. It had its benefits and disadvantages; eavesdropping was one of the former.

Behind him, his guards pulled open the heavy doors. Much to his amusement, his guest had arrived just as he thought she would: mutinous, angry and in a better condition than the squad of seven men he had sent to fetch her from the palace wing where the royal family and their closest servants were imprisoned. Speaking of his seven men...

"What happened to your men?"

"She...she knocked three of them out General," the squad leader said with as much dignity as he could muster. "Forgive our incompetence."

Sephiroth nodded slightly. "I expected that of her in any case."

"Sir?"

"You may leave." With his eyes he signalled to his own personal guards that his order also included them.

His men, loyal as they were, had learned never to question him. On silent and quick feet they departed, shutting the doors behind them with a reverberating thud.

In the centre of the room stood the object of his desire, Tifa Lockheart. If looks could have killed, he would have been incinerated a thousand times over, Sephiroth thought wryly. His woman had spirit even if she had nothing else. But as she had proved, even though she was chained hand and foot, she was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Hello Lockheart," he said softly.

She scoffed at his greeting and turned her head aside deliberately, curling her lip in scorn. Four years had not changed her that much. Her skin was still the same deceptively delicate shade of white touched with gold, her brown hair was longer. But those rich cinnamon eyes that had once laughed and looked at him with tenderness were hard and defiant. One would think that Tifa Lockheart had never loved him.

Or that perhaps she no longer did.

She was achingly beautiful, more so because she was precious to him. No one knew how much this war had cost him privately. But now that it was over... Sephiroth had never met an opponent who had withstood him and he was sure that this twenty-one-year old woman was not going to. In time, he would win her over.

* * *

To Tifa's horror, Sephiroth had sent men to fetch her, just as she suspected he would. That man had an ego larger than all of Wutai and Nibelheim's mountains combined and it demanded that she submit to him. _'Never mind the fact that he was the one who obeyed Shinra like some lapdog when he ordered this war. Never mind that I serve the Wutai court and begged him not to do it.'_ Naturally such a betrayal demanded that she part ways with him.

Angry thoughts of the past drifted through Tifa's head even as she was hauled along by the four remaining guards. Two had their hands clamped around her arms; the other two had tightened the chains around her feet so that she was forced to take small steps at a time. Deceived initially by the flowing garments she wore, they had left the chains loose only to discover she had a particular talent for arm to arm combat. Several bruises and three unconscious men later, they knew better.

Tifa tried to make a final break for it, twisting and turning, trying to break the chains that bound her and in response the men took to dragging her towards the heavy ornate doors and practically thrust her through them.

From that moment on her eyes were glued to the one man she loathed and resented more than anyone on Gaia: Sephiroth.

Time hadn't changed him. He still had that same fair and pale skin, the kind that glowed rich and white under moon's light. Together with his silvery hair and bewitching green eyes, he looked as ethereal and breathtaking as he had four years ago. And as bloody arrogant as always. He had the cheek, the guile to look her right in the eyes and say "Hello Lockheart" as though he hadn't just invaded her adopted homeland.

Ignoring his greeting, she curled her lip at him and looked away, turning to the window where she fixed her eyes on the distant sea. The rich marine hues were mixed with splashes of gold and red as the sun sank behind the horizon. A slight shiver went through Tifa. Just what did Sephiroth want with her? To gloat? She did not think he was likely to torture her.

When he moved towards her, Tifa instinctively shrank back. "Stay away," she ordered, knowing full well it was an exercise in futility.

Sephiroth behaved as though she had never spoken and hampered as she was, she couldn't do anything when he reached behind and grabbing her wrist, forced her to turn around. "What— let go!" she gasped, wrenching against him.

"Stay still or else I won't be able to unlock this." He spoke to her as though he was speaking to a spoilt petulant child and she would have scowled if his lips hadn't brushed her ear with the lightest of touches. Involuntarily, Tifa shivered and ceased her struggling. Behind her, Sephiroth smiled.

There was a distinct clicking sound as the key turned and then her bonds were loosened, pulled from her hands as they fell in a heap at her feet. Kicking off the loops that had been twined around her ankles, Tifa tried to pull away only to feel Sephiroth's arm encircle her waist, hauling her against him. Alarm and fear flooded her system and at once she raised her foot, bringing it down in a vicious scrape along the front of his leg. A move like that would have dislocated the kneecap of anyone not wearing protective leg armour. This unfortunately, was precisely what Sephiroth was wearing.

The arm around her waist tightened and his fingers pressed into her side, almost but not quite biting into her flesh. "Don't try that again Tifa. I don't want things to be unpleasant between us but if you behave like this, I will contain you."

"What do you want?" Tifa swallowed hard, hating the slight quiver in her voice. She was an expert martial artist and she would face any enemy head on but Sephiroth was in a class by himself. She knew of no one who had ever defeated him. His teachers had taught him well but he had surpassed them a long time ago.

"Just this."

Perhaps it was the gentleness in his voice or the unexpected answer, so different from her worst imaginings. Whatever it was, Tifa went completely still.

With his other hand, he captured hers. A gentle thumb rubbed over the angry red marks that circled her wrist, soothing the bite. Tifa's heart was had already been pounding when she was being dragged into his presence but now it was doing so for a completely different reason. Lowering her head so that her hair slipped forward and hid her face, she closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as the past collided with the surrealism of the present moment, threatening to wash her away in a sea of memory.

'_This is Sephiroth, the man who betrayed you. The man you left. The man who conquered Wutai and made it a shadow of itself. Get a grip!' _Tifa chanted the words almost feverishly in her mind, clinging to them. They were true just a moment ago and they were still true. What Tifa would not, could not admit that in spite of the immense pain he had caused her four years before and even now, there was still a part of her that was not immune to him.

* * *

She trembled in his arms and Sephiroth knew that in spite of her very real anger at him and what he had done, Tifa Lockheart still felt something for him. Theirs was a soul deep connection and even if they had stood on opposite ends of the spectrum of good and evil, it would still be there, linking them always.

She sucked in a sharp breath and wide cinnamon eyes stared up at him in alarm as he suddenly picked her up and carried her towards the bed.

"Sephiroth! You wouldn't dare! Put me down right now!"

"Hold still or I will drop you this instant," he warned, issuing his first empty threat in years.

"I would rather be on the floor or in a swamp for that matter than be touched by the likes of you!"

Tifa was about to slap him when Sephiroth very casually tossed her onto the bed in an undignified heap. Sputtering in disbelief, she swept her hair away from her eyes only to catch his heavy black cloak full in the face. "Of all the insufferable...would-be conquerors!" Tifa shouted furiously as she struggled to pull the thing off her. It certainly weighed a lot more than it looked and she thought for a fleeting moment how stupid it was of Sephiroth to wear such an impressive but cumbersome garment into battle.

Within half a minute she had freed herself from the wretched thing and balling it, she threw it at him angrily before realising that save for his black pants, Sephiroth wasn't wearing a blessed thing. Tifa's mouth dropped open and her face flamed red against her wishes. Not even when they had been together had she ever seen him in this... state.

If he had more time, he would have liked to continue watching Lockheart as she sat there on his bed gawking at him, her face redder than all of Scarlet's dresses and lipsticks combined. She looked so deliciously innocent. He also knew that she was about two seconds away from either launching herself off the bed or at him, and not in the way he would have desired. Knowing Tifa, he would not put it past her to use a Meteor Strike move on him. Based on what he had seen in the past, he had no desire to be tossed into the air only to be grabbed and smashed into the ground. Not that she would succeed actually but he didn't want to spend the rest of the evening and night fighting with Tifa. What he wanted was a good long rest.

Tifa had just remembered to close her mouth when Sephiroth moved. There was a faint silver blur and the next thing she knew was that she was lying on her side, her back pressed against Sephiroth's front with his arms firmly imprisoning her there. Once again she tried to kick him and he responded by throwing a leg over hers. Tifa was a strong girl but her head barely reached the top of his shoulder and Sephiroth was no ordinary man either.

"What do you think you are doing?" she demanded angrily as she unsuccessfully attempted to squirm free. Her face was so warm it might have been on fire and she was acutely aware of the hard muscle and warm skin touching hers through thin barrier of her clothing.

"Trying to sleep. Stay still," he ordered, resting his cheek against the silk of her hair.

"Arrogant bastard."

"Sticks and stones Lockheart. Be quiet."

And because she knew he was right, Tifa settled down, lips pressed in an angry thin line of resignation. At least he was not going to force her to do something she did not want to. Deep down inside, she hadn't quite believed he would have in any case. But it rankled and bruised her pride more than anything to know that he had gotten his way so easily again. It was always like that with Sephiroth; one had more chance of stopping a rampaging Bahamut than of preventing him from having what he wanted.

And apparently, he still wanted her. Whether it was that damnable pride of his or love...if he had ever loved her...truly...to begin with.

For what seemed like hours, Tifa remained awake, while Sephiroth, judging from his steady breathing, had fallen asleep. In the darkness and seemingly endless night, she thought about when it had all first started, when she had first met General Sephiroth of the Shinra Empire, and when she had met Sephiroth the man, the person behind the title. Perhaps if she hadn't been at Midgar then, if she hadn't opened her big mouth and offered to guide him through the mountains, he might never have broken her heart.


	2. Chapter 2

_Disclaimer: Of course I own nothing but the plot here. All FF VII characters belong to Square. None of this is for profit._

_Summary: When war breaks out between Shinra and Wutai, Sephiroth loses the one thing he has always treasured. But now that the victory's won, he intends to take back what is rightfully his. AU, SephTi_

_Genre: Romance/Drama_

_Author's Notes: It's been seven years! I should have produced a novel by now. Better late than never, I suppose. Here's for all us SephTi fans. _

_**Spoils of War**_

_I.__ In the Beginning_

There were no stars above, unless one counted the thousands of lights that blazed from the buildings of Midgar. The city had overwhelmed Mother Nature, who had obviously lost the war and privately, Tifa thought it was a fitting sign of everything this city was. It was like an obscene metal blight on the face of Gaia, sucking up the planet's life force to sustain the Shinra Empire's greed.

And now Emperor Godo had to play a careful dance with this rising superpower. It was only because she was so close to the family that Tifa was privy to their secrets and fears. Princess Yuffie, or Yuffie to those who were close enough so she could order them to drop the title, had hot-headedly declared President Shinra and his son Rufus could shove their Mako Reactors where the sun didn't shine but crude bravado could not cover up the fact that she was worried. The fact that they were here attending the birthday party of Rufus Shinra in dresses was evidence enough. Yuffie, who had probably been born in shorts and boots, had consented to wear a dress, a long one at that, and lady-like shoes. No heels though, since being skilled in the ninja arts apparently did not grant one the magical ability to float on three-inch stilettoes.

Tifa herself had no particular liking for formal gowns, although she did like the soft combination of silk and chiffon dress she had selected. It was a pale apple green, perhaps a subconscious expression of her yearning for the blue waters and green lands of Wutai. A translucent shawl of pale green with silver threads covered her bare shoulders but modesty was not on Tifa's mind. The shawl would be a useful weapon, just in case she needed to defend Yuffie. Godo had not sent Yuffie's personal bodyguard because he thought a tour of Midgar would be educational; he feared for his daughter's safety, specifically that the President would take her hostage. Still, she had to go; snubbing an invitation might be taken as an excuse, however puny, for tensions to escalate and right now, the last thing Emperor Godo wanted was a war.

Sharp brown eyes studied the massive ballroom they were now entering. Behind them, Ambassadors Chehkov and Staniv were engaged in pleasant banalities with some Shinra diplomats attached to their part. The pillars were high enough for her to have to crane her neck back to take it all in. There were plenty of silken drapes on the carved marble columns, vases of flowers that had probably been imported, glittering lights that shone like ice under a winter sun blazed shadows into deep corners where the rich and powerful mingled, plotted and schemed. There were so many guests it was almost like a sea of black tuxedoes, bright silks and blinding jewels. Tifa wanted to go back to her room.

Almost at once, President Shinra materialized with the Head of the Weapons Development Department, a woman named Scarlet. The woman certainly knew how to show off her best assets, Tifa thought wryly as she looked at the woman's dress, or rather the lack of one.

"Have you met the birthday boy yet?" President Shinra smiled down at Yuffie, who was one of the few people shorter than he was that were present. "Rufus, come over here. You have to meet Princess Yuffie."

One look at Rufus' carefully blank expression and the bodyguards in black suits that flanked him, and Tifa knew the man had been compelled to make his way over. He was very attractive, strikingly so with clear blue eyes and golden blond hair. Everything about him was carefully styled and spoke of the power and privilege he had been born to. "Your highness," he greeted smoothly, grasping Yuffie's hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

To Tifa's great amazement, her best friend in the world did not proceed to snatch her hand back and glare at Rufus like the diseased parasitic fungus she had earlier declared him to be (his father, of course, was labeled the source of all diseased parasitic fungi, human and non-human alike). She kept her hand in his and smiled up at him, her eyes wide. The young bodyguard was sure that behind her, Chekhov and Staniv were probably on the floor looking for the eyes that had fallen out of their head at the sight of their hotheaded princess looking coyly up at the son of their all but sworn enemy.

"The pleasure is all mine," Yuffie quipped brightly. "I've heard so much about you, Vice-President."

"Please, call him Rufus," boomed President Shinra and with that, the young couple was swept away from them and Tifa was left to wind her way through the crowds in order to keep an eye on Yuffie.

Dinner was delicious but Tifa barely remembered anything she ate. She was too busy watching Yuffie work to rapidly thaw out Rufus Shinra. By the time dessert was over and the wine was served, the blond man had relaxed enough to drape a casual arm over the back of Yuffie's chair. Tifa had half a mind to demand just what she was playing at but decided she would wait until they returned to their guest quarters.

Unfortunately, Princess Kisaragi had other plans. "What do you mean you want me to leave you with him?" Tifa hissed as Yuffie dragged her away to the balcony. Somewhere in the background, Rufus Shinra lurked, a lazy half smile on his lips.

"Trust me, Tifa. I have this under control," Yuffie assured her while shooting Rufus admiring glances from beneath her lashes. "After all, we are here to attend his party."

"Yuffie, that's Rufus Shinra. Nobody has him under control, except maybe his father. Besides, isn't he the soul-sucking despoiler of the planet, to quote you?" Tifa said pointedly.

"For a soul-sucking despoiler, he isn't half bad looking. Besides, Father did say to do all in my power not to offend them. So stay away and don't ruin it for me." And with that, Yuffie wriggled out of Tifa's grasp and through the crowd back to Rufus. When they left, it was without the bodyguards and the latter's arm around the princess' slender waist.

She would have followed them, but Yuffie would have blown a gasket and besides, the bodyguards were now eyeballing her, almost as though they dared her to do so. Obviously Papa Shinra had given orders that his precious son was to be left alone with the Wutai princess. He probably wanted Rufus to marry Yuffie, Tifa thought, stricken. All was fair in love and war and apparently he felt love was better than war and marriage was a better way to wrangle control of the kingdom from Godo.

Tifa pinched the bridge of her nose and suddenly wished she hadn't had that last sip of wine. Alcohol just didn't sit well with her, especially when her stress levels were rising. Deciding that some fresh air was needed, she stepped out into the balcony and found, to her delight, that it was completely deserted. Walking away from the huge arched doorway, Tifa sought the far end, where it was quietest and away from the glare of the lights.

The cold air did much to revive her spirits. Arching her back, she stretched, stole a quick look around to make sure she truly was alone before kicking off her satin heels. Placing her hands on the ledge, she swung her legs over, folded her skirts modestly about her and pressed her aching heels against the night-chilled concrete. A sigh of satisfaction escaped her.

She did not realise that she was being watched until she heard the gentle scuff of a shoe on the floor. Sable brown hair slid over her shoulder as she snapped her head towards the sound, eyes afire with suspicion and battle-heat. And then she paused and almost forgot the need to keep her mouth shut.

He was possibly the most beautiful thing she had even seen.

Even in the shadows, his long silver hair which he wore loose had a soft sheen, the fringe framing an elegantly narrow face with chiseled features that would have been exceptionally pretty except for the somewhat grim set of those lips. He was very fair, almost white and very, very tall. The top of her head would barely reach his shoulder and she was not short. He did not wear a jacket but an old-fashioned tailcoat, which would have looked ridiculous on anyone but him. It was left unbuttoned and the immaculately white shirt and waistcoat beneath were visible. Silver cufflinks reflected the faint light, a pale gleam in the dark, much like the man himself.

"You might want to come down from the ledge." His voice was dark and deep, and he sounded amused.

"Eventually, yes," Tifa replied before turning away to stare at the city lights below. She was annoyed with herself for staring, practically gawking, and with him for noticing and not having the good grace to pretend otherwise.

"It's a long way down, in case you haven't noticed. Wine does tend to dull the senses."

She scowled when she realized just what exactly he was suggesting. "I am neither blind nor drunk. And this height is nothing compared to the mountains of Nibelheim and Wutai."

Realisation dawned. "You are Tifa Lockhart." The file had no photograph or portrait, and all he had gleaned from it was whatever little information the Turks could find. She was seventeen, a fact he now found slightly disturbing because sitting there in the dark, all slender curves in a green dress that set off the dark silk of her hair and eyes, she looked older, far more womanly and he was suddenly annoyed that she had chosen to wander off into isolated corners by herself. It didn't matter if the girl was one of the most accomplished martial artists in Wutai; not all monsters roamed the lands beyond the city gates, some wore expensive suits and smiled.

At the mention of her name, she turned once more and was startled to see that he had come closer. A lot closer. He was a mere three or four steps away from her now and she had not heard him move at all. He must have scuffed his shoe deliberately to let her know he was there. An involuntary shiver ran up her spine and she pulled the shawl closer around her, pretending it had to do with the night air and not the man. It was on the tip of her tongue to ask how he knew but that would have been stupid. President Shinra had done his homework and that information must have trickled down to some of his underlings. Or this one had passed it up the chain of command. "And what is your name?"

"Lieutenant Crescent." The lie came smooth, naturally. The last thing Sephiroth wanted right now was an expression of awestruck worship or hatred laced with horror, which was the likelier of the two, granted that she was a naturalized citizen of Wutai. She could hardly be expected to be impressed at meeting the empire's premier general and the frontrunner for any war campaign to be waged against Wutai.

For one stupid moment, she thought that perhaps he was the General Sephiroth, the one mothers warned their children about when the latter were being impossibly naughty. Besides, he had been a legendary figure she had grown up hearing about. "He must be quite old," she mused under her breath.

"Who's old?" A silvery brow arched imperiously. She could not possibly mean him.

A self-amused smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Not you. Sorry, I was thinking about someone else for a moment. You did mention you work for Shinra's army…" Which placed him just a couple of rungs below Rufus Shinra in the diseased parasitic fungus scale of the universe.

"Was it General Sephiroth?" His name was practically synonymous with the army. Leaning his elbows on the ledge, he ran a finger under the collar of his shirt, loosening the top button. His hair spilled forward, lifted on the slight breeze, the ends dancing in the air on nothingness.

"There's only one General that infamous. Do you know him?"

At least she looked a bit more interested now, intrigued even. It would be a most entertaining way to spend a boring night. "More than I care to. The man is a complete slave-driver." What most people failed to realise was that Sephiroth really took that insult as a compliment. Only incompetent generals allowed their soldiers to loaf off. Besides, no cadet or SOLDIER had died under his training regimes. Yet. "And yes, he is old." When compared to wet behind the ears third class newbies. So technically, he wasn't lying. And concepts like youth and old age could be highly subjective.

As much as she wanted some gossip on the almighty, mysterious General, Tifa didn't think highly of career soldiers who badmouthed their superiors to outsiders. "He is very competent," she pointed out, and then almost gagged when she realized what she was doing.

Cat green eyes blinked in astonishment. Had the girl just defended him, and to a complete stranger and soldier of the empire? 'You are unusual,' he thought with something akin to admiration. "That's a matter of perspective," he replied quietly. According to Professor Hojo, he would never be good enough. Thank Gaia for Gast Faremis. Sephiroth had no doubt he would be an entirely damaged personality if not for the latter's kindness which had softened the harshness of a life already laid out for him even when he had been little more than a growing foetus in his mother's womb.

"I would be a fool not to acknowledge his skill at war. After all, even Emperor Godo speaks well of him." His battle acumen and fighting prowess, at least. Tifa did not think being called a heartless killing machine or a mindless slave of Shinra was complimentary. "Sometimes."

A sharp bark of amused laughter slipped past his lips. "That would be something to tell the General." He could see the alarm dance across Tifa's pretty face. "If we were on speaking terms, that is." She looked suspicious for a few more moments before relaxing.

Silence passed between them and although they were strangers, it was not all that uncomfortable. "So why are you out here instead of inside there? Either hobnobbing with the rich and powerful is not your cup of tea or you've already arrived and don't have to do that."

Both actually, he wanted to say. Unfortunately, that answer would simply have raised more questions than he cared to answer. "I was required to show up and now that the Vice President has taken his leave, I think I'm allowed the rest of the night off." It was not a lie, just two facts placed together and she was welcome to make whatever conjectures she wanted to. President Shinra naturally wanted his most powerful general around, as a warning to his enemies and as a trophy representative of the Empire's military strength. And since the second most important man at the party had already left, Sephiroth thought he could hardly be faulted for following in the footsteps of the President to be.

Was he a bodyguard too? Tifa tilted her head to study the man before her. His fingers were long, elegant, like the fingers of a pianist. In spite of his height, his build was almost slender. Maybe he was one of those deskbound military men who earned their ranks by using only their brains. He looked formidably intelligent but apart from his ability to move silently, she could not see anything that revealed an expert fighter. Head of Security perhaps, assigned personally to look after Shinra Jr.

"So what do you think of our fair city?" There seemed to be a ring of faint mockery in those words although his face remained impassive.

There was no harm in being honest. Her opinion counted for nothing here; it was Yuffie's and ultimately, Emperor Godo's that mattered. "When I look at Midgar, I think I do not want a Mako Reactor in Wutai." Underneath her feet glittered a carpet of artificial stars powered by stolen Lifestream. "It would kill the land. And I do not want the presence of Shinra troops that will inevitably follow the construction of such a device."

To her surprise, he did not immediately start frothing with fury or glaring at her as though she was some strange species of imbecile, which was what she had grown accustomed to when watching Godo negotiate with Shinra diplomats.

"There might not be a choice to make about that, eventually." Sephiroth had grown up surrounding by Shinra culture and politics all his life. He knew the President who had created him well enough. He had already been informed of the President's last resort measure if all else failed to persuade Godo. "But there are other options still available, if your Emperor can see them."

"You would rather live on your knees than die on your feet?" she shot back fiercely, although she kept her voice low.

"Pride is a stupid reason to throw away so many lives."

"Nothing has been set in stone; Shinra may not always win." Her fingers twined in the silk of the shawl, picking at a loose silver thread. "And sometimes, you have to try your best, regardless of the cost. It might be the only way to go on, should the worst happen." She gave him a curious look. "Didn't they teach you that as a soldier?"

That, and a whole lot more. Some of those by using methods that were best forgotten. "It's a hard road to walk."

For a moment, emotion flickered over his face, like lightning over summer skies. She would have missed it if she hadn't looked over at that moment. Something must have happened. This man hid things inside him, and perhaps he knew more than an ordinary cog in the Shinra wheel did.

"I've been told it is. But we try to make the wisest choices when we can and make do with the rest that is given to us." She smiled wistfully. "That's what my father told me anyway."

It was strikingly similar to something Gast had once told him. He had been only twelve, terribly bruised and bleeding from the grueling training sessions and weakened by another massive dose of Mako treatment. For the first time in his life, Sephiroth had thought of dying. The older man had spent the night attending to his physical wounds and soothing the ones that weren't visible. "I wish you were my father," the young boy had whispered and Sephiroth felt that memory like an ache in his spirit. Gast Faremis had disappeared ten years ago, never to seen again.

His silence was the only indication that her words actually meant something to him. Then, a few people stepped out onto the balcony, talking loudly, and the spell was broken. And she remembered that she was the princess of Wutai's personal bodyguard and he was a lieutenant of an enemy nation. It would not do to be caught alone with him in an isolated, intimate setting. Hastily, Tifa slipped off the ledge and donned her shoes, all too aware of bright green eyes on her. "I should go now. You have a good night." A few pairs of eyes turned in their direction. "See you tomorrow," she mumbled hastily as she brushed past him.

"Indeed," he murmured softly as the slim brunette escaped into the brightness of the ballroom. She did not know it yet but Sephiroth had every intention of holding her to her word. He waited a few minutes, sighed when he realized the others were staring at him with a strange mix of awe and revulsion, and made his own exit, head held high, once more the icy, aloof General.


End file.
